


Gratuity

by thevault



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Roughly takes place during TPS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 11:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevault/pseuds/thevault
Summary: Rhys is a bartender at the Up Over Bar in Concordia and Jack is one of his regulars.  Jack is a hard no when it comes to guys Rhys would sleep with because of his shitty personality, but don't tempt a man who hasn't gotten laid in a few months...---Or, the one where Jack eats Rhys out when all he's trying to do is close up for the night.





	Gratuity

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy another oneshot!! This was a request from @lordsofiron on twitter, he requested some rimming and, well, here it is! Sorry it took so long whoops. Hope ya'll enjoy!

“Hey, Moxx,” Rhys called as he entered the bar, waving a hand over his shoulder without looking in her direction. He was a few minutes early for his shift as usual, heading into the back past the kitchen and the cooks so he could set his things down in Moxxi’s small, quaint office.

Rhys worked the late shift on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Up Over Bar in Concordia. They weren’t the busiest nights but he still got good tips thanks to his cute butt and some dedicated regulars, and Moxxi had just started up a designated wing night on Thursdays so he was doing better than usual. He mostly took on the job for some extra spending money so he could do what he wanted on the weekends without feeling guilty about it, but he was actually starting to like it. He liked the fast-paced energy of it all, the cold hard cash he brought home, and of course, all of the compliments and flirting he was showered with each night.

Well, not _all_ the flirting. There were the creepy old guys who liked to cat call him and slur filthy things to him while he made their drinks, and then there were the young ones who didn’t really know how to flirt but tried anyway. Rhys never made anything of the flirting other than getting tips, he wasn’t stupid enough to start something that could cost him his job. Not to mention, anyone who came to a bar and flirted with the bartender was _clearly_ desperate.

Insert Jack, Rhys’ most desperate customer of them all. He was a good looking guy, sure, built the way Rhys liked, strong-jawed, confident. That didn’t take away from the fact that he was an asshole, unfortunately. A cocky, self-centered asshole that talked about himself more than anyone Rhys had ever met in his life. He was there _every_ Tuesday and Thursday, chatting Rhys up and calling him those god awful pet names like he was a stripper or something. Jack was pretty much the only person Rhys didn’t flirt with, and for some reason the guy fucking liked that and gave him huge tips anyway. It was infuriating, but his wallet was happy.

Unsurprisingly, Jack was just stepping up to the bar as Rhys slipped behind it to relieve Moxxi for the night. He exchanged some words with his boss, entered his numbers into the till, and turned to the growing crowd. These wing nights were really amping up their business, the bar filled out nicely and even some of the high tables clustered with people. New faces weren’t common in a bar like this, but now? Rhys was seeing newcomers pretty often.

“There’s my favorite bartender!” Came Jack’s voice through the crowd, loud and bellowing as usual. Rhys fought back a grimace and slid his way over to the older man, batting his eyelashes in mock-interest.

“What can I get for you, _sir_?” Rhys cooed, even though he knew exactly what Jack was going to order. Rhys repeated the order over in his head as Jack said it out loud: double sex on the beach, shaken not stirred, _baby_. Rhys was pretty sure Jack only ordered the damn thing for the name.

“Lookin’ good tonight, pumpkin. That a new sweater?” Rhys caught a flash of Jack’s grin before he turned around to grab the appropriate bottles off of the neon-lined shelves. He rolled his eyes at the question even though Jack couldn’t see.

“I wear this every night, Jack,” Rhys grumbled as he slammed the metal shaker down on the bar in front of Jack with probably a little too much force, “literally, every single night.” It was his uniform, after all. Black deep v-neck sweater, tight black slacks, shiny black boots. He always had his sleeves bunched up around his elbows, partly so he didn’t spill anything on them, and partly because he got better tips when his tattoo and metal bits were showing.

“You sure?” Jack asked, voice squeaking up a few octaves patronizingly. Rhys just shot him a glare and went about making his drink. “All I’m sayin’ is, you’re lookin’ good tonight, kitten.”

For some reason, that particular pet name always got to him, sending a shiver up his spine without fail. He’s said it before and he’ll say it again (really, it was an internal mantra), Jack was totally his type on the outside. The inside? Not so much, he had a personality for shit. _Thirsty, thirsty man_, Rhys thought as he closed the lid on the shaker and held it in one hand as he did with it what it was made to do.

Rhys poured the colorful drink into a fancy glass and stuck a straw in it, little paper umbrella and all. Jack’s fingers caressed his as he handed the drink to him, the touch deliberate in a way that had Rhys making heated eye contact with the older man for a fraction of a second. He never let Jack get to him, not really, and tonight would be no different. He moved on to other customers while Jack’s eyes watched him as always, boring into his back or catching on his peripheral every once in a while.

For some reason, throughout the night Rhys found himself drifting back towards Jack. It wasn’t unusual for him to fall into banter with the older man every once in a while, taking up the few seconds he had before he was tending to another customer. However, tonight was different. Jack wasn’t just throwing him quick compliments or making lewd remarks while he passed by. Don’t get him wrong, there was _plenty_ of that, but Jack was also… _Inviting_ tonight.

Even now, Rhys was leaning his elbows against the bar, his chin in his hand as he listened to Jack talk. He wasn’t even really sure what he was talking about, but the animated way about his storytelling was inciting enough. Jack really _was_ handsome, he had to give him that. He had a charismatic presence about him that Rhys had never seen in another person before, like he was meant to keep an audience. Everything about him was dramatic, always telling tall tales about himself that Rhys didn’t _actually_ believe but sometimes he liked to pretend, feeding into Jack’s heroic image of himself.

“You in there, Rhysie?” Jack’s voice startled him from his thoughts, wiping the dopey grin off of his face. Had he really gotten that entranced with this man? _Damn, I really need to get laid_, Rhys thought as he straightened his posture.

“Yeah, sorry, what were you saying?” Rhys glanced over to Jack’s left as he saw a customer’s head poke over the bar. “Sorry, give me a second,” he murmured quickly to Jack, flashing a smirk his way when the older man pouted. He made quick work of a few orders, closed out some tabs, and made his way back over to Jack. “Continue?”

Jack cleared his throat and leaned over the bar, getting close enough into Rhys’ personal space that he had to lean back a little. “Aw, come on, pumpkin. You weren’t listening at all?” Jack reached forward and hooked his index finger in his v-neck, just barely brushing his finger over Rhys’ chest. Such a small touch shouldn’t have made him want to shiver, but Rhys wasn’t kidding when he said he needed to get laid. What was it now, almost two months? No wonder Jack was looking like a snack right now.

“Not really,” Rhys said with a half-shrug, “you’re not very interesting.” That was mostly a lie. Even though Jack was obnoxious he was definitely interesting. After all, the man was trying to overthrow a massive company right now. Rhys could appreciate that kind of power.

“Pfft, I’m to most interesting man you’ve ever met, sweet cheeks,” Jack winked at him, and even that was too much for Rhys’ sex-deprived mind. _Please don’t ask to take me home tonight, please don’t ask to take me home tonight_, Rhys chanted in his mind, knowing full well he might not be able to say no to another one of Jack’s advances, not when he was this desperate.

“C’mon, let me take you home tonight?” Jack sounded hopeful, _looked_ hopeful, like he was going to give up if Rhys said no one more time.

The silence that stretched between them seemed to last forever. Normally, Rhys would say no immediately and go back to whatever he was doing. Was he _really_ considering this? Sure, Jack gave him great tips, but he was still an asshole. He’d probably stop showing up to the bar altogether once he got what he wanted. But Rhys was on a dry spell and, like he’s said a million times before, Jack was _handsome_. He was allowed to give into a good-looking guy every once in a while, right?

Rhys’ uncharacteristic silence seemed to be egging Jack on. His lips were stretching into a grin as if he’d already one, heterochromatic eyes wide with glee. That alone was almost enough to turn Rhys off from the idea and give him another hard _’no’_, but he was already too caught up in his own fantasy of letting Jack take advantage of him to actually say it.

“Fine,” Rhys finally answered, taking Jack’s now-empty glass and starting on a new drink for him. If he was gonna let Jack have his way with them then he was at least going to run up his bar tab. “You’ll have to stick around long enough for me to close up, though.”

Rhys didn’t give Jack a chance to answer, though he was pretty sure he didn’t have much to say. Jack looked too awe-struck to have a comeback, accepting his new drink dutifully before Rhys made his way to the other end of the bar to help other patrons. This was a bad idea, he knew it was, but it was too late now. Moxxi was going to _kill_ him if she ever found out.

—-

It was nearly two in the morning by the time Jack was the only one left in the bar, which meant Rhys had lots of time to go over the pros and cons of sleeping with Jack in his head. Right now, with the anticipation of it actually happening creeping up his spine there seemed to be a whole lot more pros than cons. Jack was watching him flit about the bar, picking up leftover cash tips and wiping down any water stains left from the heathens that didn’t use coasters. He was trying not to work _too_ fast, he didn’t want Jack thinking he was eager or something (even though he totally was). Honestly, this was a long time coming and they both knew it.

Did that mean Rhys was a little anxious? Probably. Was he maybe stalling a little? Jack definitely thought so judging by the look on his face. Rhys ignored the bored look on his face as he started putting the little plastic covers on each liquor spout, a process Moxxi never enforced, but Jack didn’t have to know that. Rhys was no stranger to sex, but there was something about Jack that was dangerous and intimidating and it was setting his nerves on edge.

By the time Rhys was pulling his tips Jack was no longer sitting at the bar. He blinked dumbly at the empty bar stool in front of him as he set the cash down, glancing up and down the bar before he shrugged. Rhys figured he was probably in the bathroom or, if his self-preservation was lucky, Jack had gotten tired of waiting and just left. He started counting his tips when he felt a warmth at his back, reminding him that Jack was definitely still there.

“You almost done there, kiddo? You sure do know how to keep a man waiting,” Jack’s voice whispered in his ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. Rhys couldn’t stop the full-body shudder that ripped through him, hands growing cool and clammy.

“Yup! Just, uh, just gotta count my tips and the drawers…,” Rhys trailed off as he clenched his hands into tight fists to stop them from trembling. He just needed to take a deep breath and calm himself down, Jack _really_ shouldn’t have that effect on him. He was just a loud-mouthed asshole Rhys had to deal with every week that was… That was very much groping his ass right now. Rhys jumped at the touch, slamming his hands down onto the bar so his money didn’t go flying everywhere.

“Jack!” Rhys shouted, turning his head to look at the hands man behind him.

“What? Just getting a little preview,” Jack cooed, kneading at the soft flesh through his pants. Rhys really hated how badly he wanted to arch into every pinch and squeeze.

“I’m still at work, you jackass! Go sit back down!” Rhys made a half-assed attempt to wiggle out of Jack’s arms, though he didn’t put up much of a fight when Jack kept him there.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that, baby. You know you can’t resist,” Jack placed a soft kiss on his neck, “let me get you warmed up, how’s that sound?”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Despite himself, Rhys arched his hips back against those prying hands as he bit back a breathy sigh. Did Moxxi have cameras in this place? He glanced around at random corners of the bar nervously, gripping the edge of the bar with a white-knuckled grasp.

“I know you don’t mean that,” Jack purred, nipping at Rhys’ earlobe in such a way that yeah, Rhys was pretty convinced he _didn’t_ mean it.

A soft gasp escaped Rhys’ lips when one of Jack’s hands snaked around to his crotch, cupping Rhys’ already half-hard cock with a satisfied chuckle. Jack might have made some comment about how eager Rhys was but honestly, he couldn’t care enough to listen. His mind was too focused on other things, like how risky this was and if Moxxi found out he could _definitely_ lose his job. It was making him nervous, but also very much excited.

Rhys let his eyes flutter closed and rocked his hips into Jack’s hand, the fiction and warmth feeling amazing on his tightly-wound body; he was way over-due for this. Jack rubbed his cock until it was fully hard, arching uncomfortably in the tight confines of his pants. Thankfully he didn't have to suffer too long, Jack’s fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. Jack was chuckling again, presumably at the relieved sigh that left his lips, but Rhys didn’t pay it much mind.

Before Rhys could protest Jack was sliding both his pants and underwear down his hips, his cock bobbing free eagerly. Rhys tried to protest but Jack had two fingers in his mouth before he could say anything, pressing on his tongue demandingly. Rhys sucked at the digits with fervor, keening under Jack’s heated praise of, “_good boy_,” whispered in his ear. Rhys slid his tongue between them and lapped at the pads like he was hungry for it, making sure they were glistening with saliva when Jack finally pulled them free. He could feel Jack’s own erection pressed firm against the curve of his bare ass, and Rhys was more than eager to grind back against it.

Jack’s fingers pried at his hole playfully but never actually gave him what he wanted. Rhys arched and rocked back against them, whimpering as they circled the tight ring of muscle but never slipped inside. He felt like he was going mad with the way Jack was teasing him, applying just enough pressure to make him crave _more_. He needed something, anything more than this, but then the warmth of Jack’s body vanished completely, leaving Rhys desperate and wanting.

Rhys glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Jack leaning forward before a warm, wet sensation had him rocking onto his tip-toes with a startled moan. Jack was on his knees, a hand on each of Rhys’ exposed cheeks, pulling him apart so he could bury his face between them. Another slow, firm lick had Rhys bending forward until his chest hit the edge of the bar, back arched into a neat curve so he could bow his hips towards Jack.

“Holy _shit_,” Rhys whispered as Jack’s thumbs teased at the edges of his hole only to be accompanied by another deliberate swipe of tongue. Rhys couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten eaten out like this, but damn did he miss it.

Jack’s little kitten licks soon turned into a wet, heated mess that had Rhys moaning loud enough that he should have been embarrassed with himself. His lips were parted to make room for his panting breaths and the sounds Jack was making behind him were doing wonders for his arousal. Jack traced the ring of muscle with the tip of his tongue before he pressed inside just barely, only to pull back out and use the flat of his tongue to lap at him like he _needed_ it.

“O-Oh my _god, Jack,_” Rhys’ voice cracked around his words as Jack dipped his tongue down to tease at his perineum. A gentle nip to the sensitive skin had Rhys jerking forward and a bead of precum oozed from the head of his cock. He could feel Jack smirking against his skin before he repeated the action, much to the same effect, and dragged his tongue back up to Rhys’ pink opening.

With his flesh hand, Rhys reached down between his legs to take a firm grip on his cock, smearing the precum around the head before he started to stroke himself. He moaned at the friction and the way Jack’s mouth became more eager, obscene wet noises echoing through the quiet bar. Rhys wasn’t sure when he started chanting Jack’s name but it was the only thing he could come up with through his haze of pleasure, calling out to him over and over as he neared his orgasm.

The bite of Jack’s fingernails digging into his ass made his skin prickle with goosebumps, sending tingling waves of pleasure up his spine. Jack had started taking to biting the tender skin of the inside of his cheeks every now and then, taking in gulps of air before he dove back in for more. Rhys felt so sloppy, so _slutty_, and for a moment he worried about cameras again, his eyelids cracking open just enough so he could give another cautionary glance around the bar before he squeezed them shut again with a cry of pleasure as Jack pressed his tongue inside again.

Rhys’ hand sped up on his cock, using the thick globs of precum to help slick the way. He was getting close and Jack wasn’t letting up, if anything he moved with more urgency, grinding his tongue against him harder. Rhys’ toes were curling in his shoes, body tensing with the threat of orgasm. Each gasp of breath that left Rhys’ lips tapered off into a desperate whine as he worked his cock impossibly faster.

“J-Jack— Jack, I-I’m—,” Rhys barely managed to stutter out the half-warning before he was coming with a strangled cry, legs trembling as his orgasm crashed into him. Even though Rhys’ hand slowed to a stop Jack kept going, giving Rhys a few more moaning licks before the younger man sank to his knees from the overstimulation. His gaze was met with cum-splattered liquor bottles, a mess he was not prepared to clean up.

“Don’t’cha wish you didn’t wait so long, kitten?” Jack whispered in his ear, sending shivers up his spine. Rhys didn’t really know how to answer that question, not when he was high on the after glow of his orgasm; Jack could probably get him to say anything right now, so he just kept his mouth shut.

Jack helped Rhys tuck himself back into his pants and buttoned him up, grunting as he finally stood. Rhys gazed up at him dazedly, accepting the hand that was offered to him to help get him on his feet. Jack placed a chaste kiss at the corner of his lips and pulled away with a wicked grin that had Rhys just as terrified as he was excited.

“I’ll be waiting outside, don’t take too long, mmkay?”

And just like that Jack was gone, sauntering out the front door of the bar like it was nothing. Rhys could feel that his cheeks were red with embarrassment even though he was alone. He made quick work of his scattered tips and cleaned off the messy bottles as best he could, praying he didn’t miss anything in his haste. Once the drawer was counted and locked away in Moxxi’s office he was running out of there as fast as he could, excited to see Jack leaning against a vending machine with a cocky smirk.

Was he going to regret this? Probably, but he would worry about that in the morning.


End file.
